Dragons and Watchmen and Tyrants, Oh My!
by Elizabeth Bower
Summary: Well, Laurence and Temeraire are in Ankh-Morpork. And unfortunately for them, they need the help of the local Watch and the local tyrant. Unfortunately, they also need the help of a certain group of wizards. Rated for language on the part of Vimes and Watch. Credit Nimbus for idea, Pratchett for characters, and Miss Novik as well.
1. Welcome to the Discworld

**Disclaimer:** **This is the continuation of Nimbus' Temeraire/Discworld work, and I will say that I own nothing except an OC or two. Now, not that I have anything against homosexuals, but I will NOT do a homosexual slash between canon characters. Sorry, but that's twisting them so far...Ehem. That's just so you all know that. Read and review, please?**

Commander Vimes put his head in his hands. It had been a long day and now it seemed to be getting even longer. "Run that past me again. There is _another_ big dragon in the city?"

Sergeant Colon shuffled his feet and twirled his helmet in the famous 'Senor, bandits have invaded our village' style. "Um yes sir. It's black with a bit of dark blue on the wings and has tendril things around its face. It's also even bigger than the last one."

"Oh Gods! Has it tried to burn down the city yet?"

"Well, no sir, but it has a _captain,_ which it is very attached to. Very law abiding chap, calmed the beast down, hopped off its back and he and his dragon are now in protective custody."

"Well done Fred!" Fred Colon nodded uneasily, as he had known Sam Vimes since he was kid in the Watch in his first week, 30 something years ago, and _that grin_ and _that tone_ had come to mean, someone is going to be pulled over red hot coals for this.

"Has Sybil tried to identify it?"

"Yes sir, she says it, or rather he, isn't like any she's seen before."

Vimes put on his poker face. "How?"

Colon consulted a hastily scribbled list.

"He doesn't eat coal, prefers well cooked meat, but will eat a raw cow in a pinch, is more proportional than the last one, can hover, can flatten buildings, people and anything that gets in his way with a roar, and well...he speaks sir. Very clearly, in a slightly posh accent. Turns out his Captain is a member of their local aristocracy, but apart from the formality and being posh, he seems a bit like you or I. A dress uniform almost, but it looks well used for proper work, and I felt something in me water, sir."

Vimes sighed. As has been noted elsewhere, Fred colons water was not a prime piece of legal evidence, but the instinct of someone who had been a copper and in the regiments for over 30 years counted for a lot with Vimes. "Go on then, Fred."

"He's a fighter and a killer sir, not a murderer, but someone who'll easily kill in battle. He seems honorable sir, and genuine. Funny thing but he also seems a bit like Carrot, very honest and honorable. Carrot wormed out of him, that his father is a Lord, but they don't get on. Apparently it was cos of the dragon. Where he comes from, they have an air-ial corps which is sort of like an army in the air. The aristocracy there think of them like ours do of us, sir. Necessary but don't like **'**em much.

Vimes stared at him for a long, long second, processing the information, and then he sighed. "Send him in Fred." _As if I'm not busy enough with the football_, he thought.

"So, Mi- Captain, Laurence," Vimes began. He didn't have to see the others face. No one who was a Captain liked being Mister, and that went for Vimes as well. He preferred Commander now of course, Godsdamn Vetinari all the same.

"How did you and your...dragon come to Ankh-Morpork?"

Laurence looked this Commander Vimes over. Rough, weather-beaten face, like the patrolmen he saw in London. A cigar was in his mouth, he was speaking around it. It was lit, smoking quietly, but the man was politely blowing it away from Laurence. His manner and attire was brusque and direct, not unlike many of the Aviators he met, but very unlike most of the policemen. He seemed...pleased with Laurence, or at least tolerant. He was a duke, an important man in the city, he'd been told. He'd also been told to be honest and open about whatever the Commander asked, unless it got too personal.

Laurence shook his head. Why should he lie? When the captain downstairs, a Captain Carrot, had heard that remark, he'd become instantly popular with the much younger man.

Oh yes...that was another note for his mind. This man was older than Laurence, and in good physical condition. His legs looked muscular for a man even Laurence's age, and Laurence could only guess that he led his policemen from the front when possible. Although he had gained weight, the man seemed fully capable of killing Laurence if he so wished, and had the air about him of one who was very angry at the world.

"We...well, to tell the truth, we don't know. We were flying over the Cliffs of Dover when suddenly there was this rosy scent and lots of yellow breaking glass. And then we were here." He refused to add how horrible the smell had been, and that poor Temeraire had been very upset about it. However, when you got used to it, it wasn't much worse than London. The river was worse than the Thames, but...not by much. The Thames _was_ still water though. Liquid, at least.

"Ah. That would have been the Alchemist's Guild blowing up. Again. Sorry to have put you through that. They do that once or twice a month."

Laurence looked at him blankly, not comprehending. Vimes heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"Um...this city is run by guilds. Vetinari, our Patrician, legalized a lot of crime so that he could make _someone_ responsible. It was a bloody good idea, though a strange one. The Thieve's Guild is responsible for unlicensed thieving, the Assassin's Guild is _supposed_ to be responsible for murders, but that's now my job. That sort of thing. The Alchemist's Guild are always trying to make new things, but unfortunately they usually succeed in blowing themselves up. It's better than having lots of small explosions all over the city though, so Vetinari lets them keep doing it. Make more sense?"

The man was exasperated, Laurence could tell. Laurence was making a bad day worse, and he suddenly felt that being on this man's good side probably meant a lot here. So he had to be as little of a bother as possible. With Temeraire.

"Yes...a bit I think. The guilds are responsible for illegal activities in their department. And you are there in case they miss something or don't do their jobs to their best ability. Correct?"

Vimes nodded, and a brief smile passed along his lips before he removed the cigar from his mouth and spoke more clearly for Laurence. It was also quieter than the earlier conversation.

"Now, Captain, Sergeant Colon is waiting outside to catch his breath, probably along with Lance Constable von Humpeding. We allow women in my Watch."

"Yes Commander. I shall remain very polite," Laurence replied softly, smiling a bit.

Vimes was impressed. He hadn't tried the duke card, and he had said it without any trace of sneer or sarcasm. He was looking better and better.

A soft knock at the door came, and within a few seconds Colon and Sally, along with the unexpected Angua, came in. Laurence politely looked all three over, and mentally nodded to himself. Colon was an older fellow, heavy-set and yet he moved quietly. He looked like someone who used to be a soldier, and he had the bearing of all natural sergeants everywhere. One woman was tall and pale, with dark or black hair that stopped at her shoulders. She had a boyish sort of face, but she was very beautiful. On top of this, she moved with extreme elegance and grace. And looked to be sixteen. The other woman was the same height, maybe only a touch shorter, with blond hair that cut off just past her shoulders, and was actually tied back with a cloth. She had very blue eyes, almost dog-like, and when she looked at him he noticed her take a deep breath.

He was _not_ a popular man right now...

"Sergeant Angua, Lance-Constable Sally, and Sergeant Colon, meet William Laurence. He is Temeraire's...captain."

Vimes sounded uncomfortable with the formal greeting, and Laurence quickly stood and bowed politely.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, ladies. And you, Sergeant Colon. Please, call me Laurence. It might help my own nerves."

He heard the one introduced as Sally, who had offered her hand politely to him, chuckle and say something in a strange tongue, one that sounded not unlike German, but at the same time was very different. Angua chuckled softly, and they both smiled. Sally's fangs were not obvious unless she grinned, as she did now.

Laurence politely kissed her fingers, straightening again.

"Er...Mister Vimes, er...Lord Vetinari wants to see you..._and_ Captain Laurence..."

Colon had the look of a hunted man. Laurence could see why. He hadn't known Vimes very long, but the look that said he was going to gut somebody was very clear in his face and eyes, even if he had pulled his features into perfect neutrality.

"Thank you, Fred. Angua, stay here and help Carrot with the paperwork. Sally, you're with us...I want someone to talk at when we come out of that office."

"Pardon me, Commander. I feel I have some right to know something about this man...is there anything in particular I should be aware of?"

All the Watch officers nodded slowly.

"To start, Captain, he makes use of a lot of dry humor, sarcasm, and irony. Especially when he's in a bad mood. To make it worse, he never seems to get angry, only amused, and if he smiles, try not to shudder. If you're scared, act like an enlisted and stick with 'sir' for an answer. And if he seems genuinely amused, prepare for the worst. He has a very dark sense of humor."

It was Sally who had answered his question, and he watched as Vimes seemed to relax a bit. Then the Commander added his own comments.

"He's an icy, sarcastic bastard, but he makes this place run efficiently. First time it has in centuries. Just avoid eye contact unless he seeks it out actively, and when you answer...act dumb and yet don't insult him by lying outright. Hide some of the truth, go for it Captain. Outright lie? No. Only me and Mr. Lipwig get away with that, and that's because it amuses him, the bastard."

"Ah. That's a lot of things to know. Well, let's get it over with then. I think I'd rather this scare be done with as fast as possible...is it alright to get mad, as long as I don't touch him?"

"Far as I know, he finds that amusing. Feel free," Vimes replied, smiling faintly before he grabbed his armor and started put it on.

Laurence sighed and stepped out into the hall. It was dank and a bit murky, but that was fine. He felt oddly comfortable with the Watch officers, they reminded him a lot of the Aviators back home. Even the women were similar, and though it was hard to accept that things like vampires, werewolves, dwarfs, and even golems and trolls existed...was it so strange? Surely this world was full of magic and wonder? Temeraire, at least, would find this most amusing and curious.

"So...your world has many dragons?"

Laurence turned to be met with the liquid gaze of Lance-Constable Sally. He nodded before replying.

"Yes, we have many dragons. Each country has it's own special types. Temeraire is not from my country, he is from China, a rare breed even there. He is a Celestial, the most intelligent and elegant of dragons." Again Laurence felt the swell of pride in his chest. Sally seemed impressed, and he knew what a wonderful beast Temeraire was. If this place gave Temeraire pleasure, then by all means Laurence would indulge him as much as he could.

"Your world sounds interesting...if not a bit scary. Here, other than swamp dragons, dragons are evil and greedy creatures, though cunning. Apparently, a few years back, Ankh-Morpork was attacked by one that Vetinari's head clerk had summoned to depose him. As you can see, it didn't work. However...it is said they are silver-tongued. When told this, the story goes, Vetinari's reply was a smile and 'only silver?'" Sally said, smiling at the end. Laurence had to admit, that sounded like a man with a great sense of humor, though a bit dark. He could see that this might be a harder meeting than he thought.

A yell from the office was followed by a whimper, and Laurence nearly burst into the room to see what was wrong. Sally beat him to the door, and blocked it.

"Wait a minute. That was the Commander...best not to go in right now," she murmured, and he nodded once. Yes, he could see her point. The Commander had a violent temper, Laurence had been told this. He didn't doubt it one bit.

Shortly, Vimes, Colon, and Angua came out. Vimes was fuming, and Angua and Colon looked concerned. Well, Angua did. Colon looked like he was trying to not wet himself, which was possible.

"Sally...how possible do you think it is that Vetinari would throw a meeting of lords and invite us to it?"

Sally sighed, and took a deep breath. "Very, Sir."

"Damn...I thought so."

Laurence followed after Vimes, the feeling a natural one as he kept pace with the older man, who stomped quickly down the stairs and then out into the street. Sally grabbed a wide-brimmed hat and suitcase before she followed after Laurence. He felt a bit bad about not waiting for her, but Vimes' pace was already quick, and Laurence, who was a brisk walker himself, had trouble keeping stride until he stopped actively trying to.

It was sunny, and almost warm. Laurence didn't bother to look at streets or anything like that. Following Vimes was the only thing really on his mind, besides Temeraire's well-being. Still, Lady Sybil had seemed a very trustworthy woman, and certainly in love with dragons.


	2. Meeting the Tyrant

"Ah, Sir Samuel. And Captain Laurence, yes? Do have a seat, gentlemen, you are the first to arrive...and this is going to be a long meeting, I'm afraid."

Vimes looked his Patrician over darkly. He looked the same as usual, maybe a bit more tired. His jet black hair was unadorned this afternoon, the usual skullcap most likely left in the Oblong Office. Vimes could see the good stout boots Vetinari preferred to regular shoes, and internally smiled. The goatee was meticulously neat as usual, and the man looked infuriatingly unaffected by this latest disaster.

Vimes sat down on the Patrician's right.

The Patrician opened his eyes again, fixing Vimes with a withering, icy stare. Vimes leaned back, trying to make it look dignified, but the intensity had been a good warning. No broaching of subjects usually raised to him. Right now, they were concerned with only this, to Hell's with anything else.

It was amazing what they could communicate with a look, though. Carrot and Angua, along with Colon, had commented on that several times.

"How is Young Sam? And dear Sybil, as well?"

"Fine sir. Just fine."

Vetinari nodded, and waved a dismissive hand. "Bring Captain Laurence over here, would you? I'd like to talk him in private, before the meeting. I'm sure you neglected to mention Lord Rust in your list of warnings."

Vetinari gave a lightning smile as Vimes' fists clenched. Lord Rust was one annoyance they both agreed on, Vimes knew that. But neither he nor Vetinari could do anything about the bastard.

Just as Vimes turned towards the door, a Clerk came into the chamber. Wearing the usual black, Vimes almost missed the tell-tale signs. She was a young woman, with eyes almost as blue as the Patrician's, though less icy, and tanned skin. She was slim and attractive, and tall, standing maybe 5'9", an unusual height in a girl. Her hair was just past her ears, but very neat, and jet black. Her features were fair and equine...he could almost have sworn she was related to the Patrician. But no, she seemed more...well, lower-class, really.

Vimes realized he was staring, and that under his gaze the girl had averted her eyes and was moving more quickly. He shook himself and continued up to Laurence. He could hear the girl trip behind him, but as she was on the other side of the table, he kept walking.

"Captain...when that lady is finished with the Patrician, he wishes to see you," Vimes muttered, tapping Laurence briefly on the shoulder. The captain was self-consciously straightening his uniform, and nodded once, briefly, to acknowledge the unspoken order.

"As he wishes, I suppose."

Vimes nodded, and then pulled out a chair. He could hear the Patrician speaking at the other end of the table. The girl was blushing so hard she was beet-red, and she seemed to be apologizing profusely. Vetinari was actually smiling at her though, and Vimes furrowed his brow and scowled. Vetinari was helping her gather the papers, and was shaking his head at her protestations. And then she had delivered them to him, and next thing Vimes knew, she was at the door, slipping shyly out after a bow to Vetinari and himself.

"Vimes, do stop making my female assistants nervous. Young Adrianna was most afraid you would find her choice of profession quite...unfavorable."

Vimes gawked at the Patrician, where Laurence couldn't see. The man flashed a lightning-quick smile, glancing up at the Commander pure amusement in his eyes.

"Yes sir." That was a good, stout answer, it kept Vetinari from replying, and also conveyed what Vimes wanted to get across.

* * *

"Captain? Do come here, I think you and I have some things to discuss before any other civic leaders arrive." Vetinari had let their conversation end, or at least be put on hold until later. Vimes just knew that young woman was going to cause problems for him. Vetinari had made a point of saying her first name, meaning he either had plans for her or...Good Gods, could he be protecting her? Vimes did think the smile was warmer than usual, and Vetinari seldom smiled when dealing with his Dark Clerks...

Vimes snorted and filed the thought away. Right now, if he dealt with these thoughts, he would be unprepared to face Lord Rust and the other parasitic bastards that were the local aristocracy. Nd that could spell doom for Laurence.

Laurence looked at Vimes, who nodded once and then returned to his scowl, still trying to push his thoughts away, at least briefly.

"You wanted to talk to me, Sir?"

Vetinari had to admire how similar Vimes and this Captain were. Oh yes, this man had far more...well, politeness, to put it bluntly. Laurence was far more polite than Vimes, and yet...there was that same observation, and carefully neutral poker face. And the same sharp, almost cynical gaze that still held hope for other people. And an idealism he, as Patrician, also shared. But this man was so much young than them now...he was forty, maybe forty-one. He was fourteen years younger than Vimes. Fifteen younger than himself.

This took all of a second in the Patrician's quick mind, and he let the silence linger for another before he replied quietly.

"Sit down, Captain. I'm sure Vimes strained his warnings on myself, most likely using a lot of expletives." Vetinari gave a lightning-quick smile of near-amusement before he continued. "However, I'm sure he forgot to mention the Lords Rust, Selachii, or Venturi."

"He did, indeed, forget them, Sir."

"I do not lie repeating myself, Captain."

"He made that extremely clear on the way here, Sir."

Vetinari nodded, holding back a smile. Vimes had certainly given enough warnings on his own quirks, the man's blank face and yet extreme curiosity and caution were well-founded. Of course they were. But Laurence was a good military commander, and men like that, while intelligent and clever, could still be manipulated. In similar ways, in fact, to the ways Vetinari manipulated Vimes.

"Good. I shall very carefully outline the things you should watch out for in each lord. Unfortunately, Vimes and I are in agreement that these Lords are a danger to the city, but neither of us can do anything about them-"

"Sir, pardon my interrupting, but...as a tyrant, could you not technically have them executed for such an offense? Or at least imprisoned? It seems to me that your...restrictions, shall we say, are limited only by your own wishes to remain a...would you allow the phrase 'benevolent dictator,' Sir?"

Vetinari actually did smile this time, and he let it remain on his face as a small, almost strange ornament.

"Captain, I certainly would. You are quite observant. And bold. Few would be able to stand here and say that at all, even fewer without a smirk, and fewer still would not be guessing, but stating what they have deemed to be fact."

Laurence didn't smile, but he felt mildly proud of himself. He decided that praise from this man must not have been very common, based on what the others had said, and this man seemed...well, the ideal politician, didn't he?

"I'll take that as a compliment, Sir."

"To return to the matter at hand, Captain, I have taken the liberty to write you a few notes on each Lord. But may I suggest particularly avoiding the Lord Rust? He is, to put it mildly, old-fashioned and set in his ways. He neither tries to implement change nor finds it necessary to change anything. He is rather...open with his distaste of people not a Lord, and of myself and Vimes in particular."

"But are you and the Commander not Lords?"

"We are, but in the same sense I have come to understand that you are. Vimes married into being a Lord, and I, though born one, am not a gentleman enough for Rust's tastes."

"Ah, yes. He wants to associate with _gentlemen_ rather than just Lords, though he believes every Lord should be a gentleman. My father is that way, Sir."

"I'm sure your father would not march into your leaders office and demand he step down so he could initiate war, Captain. Without trying diplomacy first, mind you."

Laurence thought this over, and then nodded slowly. "My father would not, my Lord. Some of his friends might, however, if it was with France."

"Which proves your father has better survival instincts than my Lord Rust. Either way, he is a bit-"

"I think, my Lord, the phrase you are searching for loudly is _He's an idiot,_" called Vimes from the other end of the table. Vetinari nodded and then turned to Laurence again, slipping back into quieter tones.

"That is perhaps a fair assessment. And with the survival instincts of a lemming. I'd say Lord Rust, but that wouldn't help you much. He's stubborn and thinks himself intelligent and subtle, though he is neither. The others are smarter, and have more the survival instincts of a vermine."

"A vermine, Sir?"

"They don't exist on your world? Oh dear. A vermine is a small rodent related to the lemming. It throws itself over pebbles, abseils down cliffs, and builds rafts to cross waterways. The simile works here because they still put themselves in the predicament to need to do so."

Laurence nodded thoughtfully.

"Is that all, my Lord?"

"I believe so, Captain. Incidentally, please stick with the my Lord business. The sir bit is reserved for Vimes and other Watch members, as well as the few rare others."

"As you wish, my Lord."

Vetinari nodded, and steepled his fingers as Laurence and Vimes sat down beside one another much further along the table, talking and not looking at him in any way at all. Well, at least now he could smile a bit. Captain Laurence was an interesting man, certainly. And his dragon had threatened to destroy the city if anything happened to him, so it would be best if he made sure the man was safe. Apparently he was going to need Vimes to keep the man at the Ramkin Estate. He had a bad feeling that the end of this meeting wasn't going to be until tomorrow...and that was if Lord Rust wasn't totally insistent on suicide and demanded that Laurence and Temeraire be sent away or killed.

Vetinari sighed, and closed his eyes, calming himself by imagining the various ways he could, but never would, have Lord Rust killed. His favorite was still the Scorpion Pit, although he could imagine some creative ways to have that go too...

* * *

It was sometime later. Vetinari was frowning, which made both Laurence and Vimes extremely uneasy. There were very few civic leaders here, as yet. Mister Slant had been along not too long after Vimes and Laurence, really. After Laurence and Vetinari's talk, at any rate. Missus Palm had followed shortly after, and Queen Molly and Doctor Whiteface after her. Dixie 'Va Va Voom' had come shortly after, then it had been Lord Downey after her. He had checked his pocket-watch to make sure he had timed his entrance. Assassins were always fashionably late...but none of the other lords had arrived before him, and he had in fact been what, for an Assassin, was on time. Doctor Lawn had arrived, along with Miss Cripslock and William de Worde, and shortly after came CMOT Dibbler.

Following them, Mister Pony had come, along with Mister Lipwig and his wife, Adora. They apologized for being late, but the Master of the Royal Mint pointed out that they had had lots of scared people run into the bank.

Now all present were shifting uneasily, and when the Patrician stood suddenly, half of them jumped. Notably, the ones who didn't were Vimes, Downey, Missus Palm, Queen Molly, and Mister Slant. Even Doctor Whiteface had jumped a bit, sitting much closer to the man than anyone else, and having been turned away from him at the time.

"Drumknott?"

The Patrician's voice was quiet, but cold and angry. Everyone repressed a shudder, even the deceased Mister Slant. There was so much anger in that voice that everyone knew the other civic leaders were going to be in deep trouble.

"Yes, my Lord?"

Drumknott materialized at the door, and Vetinari nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Drumknott, I want you to send some Dark Clerks around to the other Guilds and Lords. I wanted them here nearly and hour and a half ago. Lord Rust doesn't generally-"

Vetinari was cut off rudely by a commotion outside, in which Lord Rust's braying yells of rage were very clear. Vimes grinned evilly.

"My Lord, shall I put shackles on him for Disruption of the Peace? Or maybe Attempted Suicide?"**

Vetinari flashed a very fast smile, when everyone else was looking at Vimes in awe. "No, Commander. But do assist him, I think one of my Clerks just kneed him in the groin."

Every male in the room crossed their legs and looked pained in sympathy, except Vimes and Doctor Whiteface, who both smiled icily.

'Yes, Sir," Vimes said with a grin, and straightened before he opened the door and let it stay open. Lord Rust was in the hallway, on his knees, clutching his groin. Lords Selachii and Venturi, right behind him, had backed off immediately. The young Clerk from earlier had her hands folded neatly behind her back, and a calmly smug look on her face. Even Sally looked impressed.

"Ah, sorry Mister Vimes. He threatened to hit me, so I took defensive action," she said softly, giving him a winning smile and then sitting down next to Sally. Vimes didn't bother gawking, instead he helped the stupid idiot to his feet and shoved him into the Rat's Chamber. Most of the Guild leaders were behind him, and had seen him collapse, and most of the most influential Guild leaders had seen it from the front. This day did not bode well for him at all.

Drumknott and the two women hurried out, and the rest of the Guild leaders hurried in, not wanting to be in a room with either woman. Vimes threw Rust into a chair near Vetinari, and resumed his place near Laurence, who was trying not to smile. He was more successful than Vimes, who was grinning.

"My Lord? I think we can start now," Vimes said, over the growing chatter. Vetinari nodded, and smiled. With a quick movement the Patrician had reclaimed his seat, and leaned forward, waiting a moment.

"Silence." Then he reached out and plucked the axe* in the middle of the table, smiling as all movement stopped. After a moment he smiled cheerily, if not icily, at the newcomers. Rust was still groaning in the background.

"So good to see you all here! Now, what delayed so many of you? I requested your presence more than an hour ago, and yet only a total of sixteen of you showed up even close to on time. I think I have a right to know why."

Suddenly the temperature went down. Vetinari seemed to be enjoying this, as did everyone who had been here before the sudden entrance of Lord Rust and Company. Except for Laurence, who looked uneasy. Still, Vimes could understand that. This was all very new to him, and so many important people who had a bearing on his life must have been such a shock.

"Well...you see my Lord..."

Vimes and the rest turned to look at the speaker. She was the current President of the Musician's Guild. She was a wisp of a girl, barely twenty-five Vimes guessed, but as always she had her Pan flute^ around her neck, and was stroking the wood nervously. She was generally considered nervous, but very intelligent, and had a sharp mind if you could get her to talk. And she was honest to a fault. It generally seemed to the other Guild leaders that Vetinari took pity on her because she was so young and shy.

"Yes, Miss Kiln?" asked Vetinari softly, giving her what might otherwise be called a warm smile. On him it looked like a crocodile readying to eat the duckling it was talking to, but she averted her eyes and flushed at the attention anyway.

"W-we...we, most of us, I mean...w-we were t-talking to the dragon, My Lord. Lord Rust...he insulted it I think...but me and Doctor Lawn calmed him...the doctor kneed him the groin to get him to shut up, so the dragon didn't get very angry with us..." she muttered, nervously fingering some song or other on her pipes. Vetinari nodded and the corners of his lips twitched.

"Thank you Miss Kiln. Please, feel free to step into the hall if you feel the need. I understand certain members of this assembly do not appreciate your nervous playing." The Patrician nodded and flashed a smile. In this case, it was to help the poor woman's nerves, Vimes knew. Vimes had seen Vetinari try to keep her occupied at gatherings, sitting through long minutes of music to try and keep her from freaking out. The man who read sheet-music...but it helped the woman stay sane, and Vimes had to admit, only Vetinari would have the patience to talk with her for more than a few minutes. Which made him feel a bit guilty, since she was a nice lady, just not very open at all.

"Thank you, My Lord," she murmured, and then stood and made a mad dash for the door. Vimes grabbed it for her and let her out, and heard her whimper against it. She really _was_ very nervous.

"Well, on that note, I think we should open the issue to debate."

The room exploded into sound before Vetinari even finished his sentence.

* * *

*Insulting a Dark Clerk, or Vetinari in front of one, or threatening one, were all considered forms of suicide in Ankh-Morpork. Along with insulting dwarfs with height, trolls with being rocky, and so forth. It was amazing the number of creative ways one could commit suicide in Ankh-Morpork.

**Someone had embedded it in the table shortly after he had arrested Dragon King of Arms. The Patrician had decided to keep it in the table, and now used it as someone else might use a hammer. It worked as a good bargaining tool, certainly.

^It is worth noting that Pan exists on both the Disc and the Roundworld. He gets around a bit, but it seems inevitable that people believe in a anture god who is half-goat and plays those stupid pipes. However, to his credit, he's also the god of Lancre Bagpipes, Flutes, Clarinets, and Fifes.

**Sorry this took a bit, my mind wanted to get the arguments going, but I figured I should have an introductory period to my...well, to Vetinari. Also, I wanted you to meet my OC, Adrianna, and make everyone you love to hate late. Everyone who would be on-time (or close to it in Downey's case), is, you might notice. Read and review, please? Next chapter should be up by...Friday, if we're lucky and my muse cooperates...and it's planned to be pretty big.  
**


	3. The First Speech

**The First Speech  
**

The noise was deafening. A few remained quiet, knowing that to shout your opinions at the Patrician did not, ever, actually work. The Patrician's usual way of silencing people didn't work, they didn't want to hear him at all. Then a note so shrill it made even the Patrician flinch, just barely, pierced the air.

Looking at the door, the other Guild leaders looked at Miss Maria Kiln, who suddenly flushed and dropped her gaze. Half of the more honorable gentlemen in the room did so as well, though they listened attentively.

"Y-you guys were all so loud...I couldn't practice out there...b-besides, I heard the Patrician...he asked you all to be quiet...and no one really listened...so, I-I wanted to make you all listen..."

She was shaking now, and Vimes moved with unusual gentleness and carefully guided her out the door. Lord Rust had regained his ability to speak, to the upset of nearly every workingman in the room.

"What a nervous dog she is! She can't even look any of us in the eye when she speaks!"

Vimes glared at the man, but he didn't seem willing to revoke the comment, instead seemingly taking pleasure in Vimes' glare.

"Well, Ronnie, let's see you recover when your father was shot in your own home while you were in bed beside him. She was seven, Ronald."

It wasn't Vimes who had spoken, but actually Lord Downey, who had an icy glare to match Vimes'. While neither could talk to the young girl very long, both sympathized with her. And since neither had had much ability to control her fate, they had tried to help in small ways. Most wouldn't have thought Downey would do that for anyone, but even he, as an Assassin, didn't want to see such talent wasted, and besides, she'd turned down his Guild's scholarship in favor of playing music. After that, all he could do is recommend her to kind people and the newly formed Guild of Musician's.

Both Downey and Vimes gave each other a curt nod, on this matter at least they could agree and stand together. Against Ronald Rust, you could surpass any differences, as long as he was forced into silence or, better yet, embarrassed silence. While Lord Downey sometimes sided with Rust on 'practical matters,' he never seemed to when it came to the emotions of others, where he almost always, even when he thought the same thing, never said a thing. Rust saying anything negative about another Civic Leader was not only insensitive, it was impolite, inelegant, _dishonorable_. Everything Downey's Guild believed in, it wasn't.

Rust sniffed, not seeming embarrassed at all, but staying quiet. He had instincts deeper than species or breeding – namely, those instincts associated with being male, period.

Downey and Vimes returned to their seats, Vimes glancing at Vetinari angrily. The man was glaring icily at Rust, as nearly everyone was, but had not turned to face him. And then, with a barely noticeable change of mindset, the Patrician was smiling and talking almost cheerfully. Everyone went silent.

The Patrician accepted a stack of papers, and no one bothered to try and read the first page. Vimes certainly didn't, sitting at the opposite end of the long table from the man.*

"Well, since you were all so tardy to this important meeting, I think I shall allow those who came here on time to speak first. Yes, Lord Rust?"

"My Lord! We were merely gathering information about the creature who's life we will be affecting," said Rust sweetly, though his attempt at subtle innocence was ruined by the sly grin and horribly attempted tone of innocence. Vetinari smiled cheerfully.

"Oh yes, Lord Rust? I have a report here that says you insulted the dragon and then threatened to take it on in armor, on horseback, with a lance." Vetinari cocked his head curiously, then frowned, like a confused bird. "Explain to me, my Lord, how this is gathering information on the dragon?"

Rust didn't miss a beat, and jumped to his feet. Vimes smiled manically as he placed his hands in front of the Patrician.

"That beast is not fit for the name of dragon! Monster, certainly! That _monster_ is larger than my home, Havelock! And you're going to trust that nervous _bitch's_ account over mine!?" Rust snarled, digging his manicured nails into the woodwork. Downey and the other lords flinched, but Laurence leaped to his feet in a fit of rage that Vimes recognized as bruised pride and defense of a loved one.

"My Lord Rust, I would deeply appreciate it if you removed that last remark about my dragon. Temeraire is, I would wager, three times as intelligent as you. More intelligent certainly than myself, and I am considered a knowledgeable man by the standards of my people. Now, would you kindly remove the remark?"

Everyone turned to the reddened captain, who had clenched his fists and looked ready to rip Rust apart, despite his quiet tone. Rust didn't show any signs of backing down, instead sniffing in disgust.

"My Lord, do you plan to allow this _rake_ to insult me like that?" Rust sniffed, looking at Vetinari. Who was looking at his hands, which were still in front of him. The ice in that glare served to break through to some small part of Rust that knew how to survive, and he stepped back in as dignified a manner as he could.

"Yes, Lord Rust, I do. You have insulted a dragon he has raised from birth, and I assume he loves dearly. And, incidentally, Miss Kiln is a valid member of this Council, Ronald. Mister Slant, what would you advise the young lady to do in this situation?" Vetinari said softly, with a cheerful tone and smile. His eyes were icy and emotionless, except perhaps for much disgust.

Mister Slant stood and coughed before consulting a sheet and looking grim. "My Lord, I would advise her to sue the Lord Rust for Slander and Public Insult, as well as Using Derogatory Terms In Public. Two slightly different charges, my Lord, I assure you."

"And Vimes, what would you be obligated to do in that case?" asked Vetinari, still madly cheerful. Vimes grinned happily.

"Well my Lord, I'd be obligated to arrest one Ronald Rust for such offenses, and charge him with an additional Attempted Suicide, two counts," he replied, giving the suddenly uneasy Lord Rust a smoothly evil smile. He liked this. He felt alive, like when he was on a chase, even though he was playing a game _allied to the Patrician._ Rust shifted even more uneasily.

"Mister Slant, if the young Miss won this battle, what would happen to Lord Rust?" Vetinari asked, looking suddenly concerned. Rust cut the old lawyer off, and shook his head.

"Alright, alright! I'll apologize to her later!"

Vetinari looked surprised. "You act as if we were blackmailing you, my Lord!" he said, sounding like he was using his genuinely contrived emotions again.

Rust muttered something, but fell silent quickly and settled for glaring at the table.

"Captain, do sit down now, please," Vetinari said quietly, and Laurence glared again.

"My Lord, with all due respect, he has not said he will apologize to Temeraire. I dema- I ask for him to say such a thing before I will obey," Laurence said quietly, his tone cold, but polite and respectful.

"Very well. I apologize to the damned dragon too! What are you two?" Rust muttered, glaring at Vimes and Laurence, who now both sat. Vimes bristled, but Laurence shrugged and smiled mildly, any hint of anger gone.

"Thank you, Lord Rust," Laurence said quietly, leaning back and looking calm, though a bit ill-at-ease still. Vimes had never seen a more contradictory term actually managed.

"My Lord, perhaps now we may actually start? Good. Vimes, Captain, as you arrived here first, I will allow you to speak first, in opposite order. Captain, please stand and address the Council," Vetinari said softly, and immediately all silence returned. Laurence bit his lip briefly before replying.

"My Lord, I think I would rather speak last. Not because I do not wish to speak, but I would have nothing to say at this point, without knowing what actual complaints, compliments, or arguments were being made against or for Temeraire and myself. I will speak if you so desire, I just thought that maybe defending myself and Temeraire could be done better after I have something to defend against, my Lord," Laurence said politely, looking fully ready to stand and talk if ordered, or stay sitting comfortably.

Vetinari sat thoughtfully, then nodded. "I see your point, Captain. Very well, you may go whenever you feel it necessary. Merely stand and wait for me to call upon you, or for the current leader speaking to ask you. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes my Lord."

"Very well then. Vimes, you get the golden opportunity," Vetinari said cheerfully, observing the others as they turned to the other end of the table, where Vimes had already risen. Forgetting his standing to attention, the duke and Watch Commander sighed and leaned on the table before he turned his cool gray eyes onto the Patrician, ignoring anyone else.

"My Lord, _what_ are we arguing? Whether Laurence is allowed to stay, whether we're going to help him get back, whether or not to kill him? What?" Vimes asked, short and blunt.

"Vimes, we are discussing all of them. What do you think we should do?" Vetinari answered calmly.

Vimes nodded once. "Alright then. Laurence wants to get home, and that's not a feeling I would deny any man who has been suddenly ripped from his home to here. If the wizard's can manage it, no offense meant, Ridcully, than I think I can safely say I would rather help Laurence get back than keep him here or kill him," Vimes said, his voice less blunt and short than usual. He was obviously angry still, but perhaps it was because of what had happened with the whole Koom Valley thing a few years back.

Vetinari nodded. "Thank you, Commander. I believe Mister Slant is up next?"

The zombified lawyer stood and cleared his throat quietly. "My Lord, I see no legal reason to kill this captain, nor any reason at all. I see no harm in trying to help him home, and the costs of feeding the dragon must be enormous. Driving him out seems too harsh, and wouldn't really get rid of the problem. I think I shall agree with the Commander, then," Slant said, getting an odd look from Vimes when he sat down, which the old lawyer ignored.

Vetinari inclined his head when Missus Palm stood, as well as every other male member in the room. Except Mister Slant, who looked ready to bow. Some old habits died very hard...or didn't die at all.

"Well, Havelock, I see no reason why we should condemn the man just for appearing here! However, I must suspend judgment until I've had a chance to meet him and talk to him. Could I ask that you give us a day? Besides, then perhaps a particular person can apologize to the poor dragon."

Laurence felt his jaw drop slightly. She looked to be ten years older than Vetinari or Vimes, and yet she made him long for a woman in his bed...And then he caught her looking at him, that sly, knowing smile. And on her, it just worked.

Vetinari seemed to be thinking, and then nodded. "If you wish, Missus Palm. Who agrees to her proposition?" Most of the leaders raised their hands, though a few did not. "I suppose, then, that majority rules. You all have two days to get to know the Captain...and try not to destroy my city while you're going about it, the city can't afford to rebuild itself," Vetinari intoned, seemingly completely serious. But Vimes smiled that manic grin. Most of their conversations were done in silence, and the idea of keeping Laurence at his place, for two days, didn't seem so bad. Besides, it meant Laurence would be the third safest man in the city, Vetinari and Vimes taking first and second respectively.

Everyone began to shuffle for the door, some faster than others. Queen Molly was laughing happily, and began to laugh almost maniacally when Lord Rust called Miss Kiln over to the side, and grudgingly apologized. She stammered something along the lines of a forgiveness, and was led away, shaking softly, by Doctor Whiteface, who seemed to have decided to invite the poor girl over for tea.

"Vimes? Do hang on a moment, I have some matters to discuss with you."

Vimes turned from the satisfying scene to see Vetinari's face, a perfect mask of thoughtfulness. However, it seemed that Vetinari was rather troubled. The man would have described the look on his face as vexed, probably.

Vimes turned to Sally and Laurence. "I'll be just a moment, Lance-Constable, if you would escort the Captain to my place, I'll meet you most likely on Broad Way," he grumbled, and Sally nodded and smiled brightly before moving Laurence away, chatting with him about dragons.

Then the Commander closed the doors, and turned to look at Vetinari. He saw the man use his cane to get up, and slowly make his way to the door to a different hallway. "Are you coming, Vimes?" Vetinari said softly, holding the door for the Commander. For a moment, Vimes considered saying no, but then he grunted and followed, since Vetinari hadn't really ordered him to stay yet.

The Patrician and the Commander walked side-by-side for awhile, the silence more comfortable than usual as they made their slow way to the Oblong Office. Vimes noted absently that Vetinari's bad leg was shaking slightly, and that when he paused to unlock the door to the Office, it shook even more.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Vimes hadn't expected an answer, but there a weary sigh from the vicinity of the Patrician's lips. One pale, blue-veined hand pressed against the bad thigh, and slowly the shaking ceased.

"No, I'm not. But I'll be fine, once this situation is over. Vimes, I want that man to live. I need to buy time, the Archancellor is being rather stubborn."

"When is he not? Sir, are you telling me to intentionally prolong this meeting?" Vimes asked, a bit uncertain as to why Vetinari was suddenly acting so...human, really. He could see silvery hairs in the coal-black hair of the taller man, who smiled weakly. The pale hand was removed from the leg, and Vimes caught sight of fresh blood on his fingers.

"I'm telling you, Sir Samuel, to make Lord Rust angry enough with Captain Laurence to make him entirely impossible to deal with," Vetinari replied, giving Vimes a genuine, if not darkly amused, smile. Vimes replied with a manic grin. Some conversations were best done in silence. This one made Vimes' heart soar, even though he was a bit concerned about the Patrician.

* * *

As Vimes made his way downstairs, and out the Palace doors, he paused to wonder whether Vetinari might have been tricking him. Yes, the smile had been genuine, but Vetinari's genuine smiles could have nothing to do with you. Or everything. And besides, he'd never seen the man look so bone-weary, even when Vimes knew the man hadn't slept in three or four days. And silver in the hair...well, that could be genuine, his mind conceded. Vetinari _was_ older than him, and Vimes was pushing fifty. His hair had gone salt-and-pepper years ago...Vetinari's must be at least _starting_ to gray now...

Vimes sighed, and then shrugged. Mind games or not, Vetinari had given him a job he could and would do happily. Annoying Lord Rust until he was unbearable to deal with? Easy, especially if he could get Mrs. Palm and Lord Downey in on it.

Glancing up at the Oblong Office, he noticed Vetinari standing in front of his window, looking as he always did. He smirked, and then decided to do something incredibly childish. He touched his helmet, then waved and darted off, deciding to catch up with Sally and Laurence, and tell his Watch officer to spread the word...Lord Rust must be annoyed at all costs.

* * *

Vetinari stepped into the Oblong Office, listening to the heavy footfalls of Vimes as he trotted downstairs. What an interesting man...and after so long, it was good to know that Vimes was, in essence, on his side. Vimes did more than duty called for to protect Vetinari, and the Patrician did appreciate it.

Hell, the man beneath the aloof Patrician, the Havelock part of him, appreciated it. Being dead didn't sound like much fun really.

The Patrician chuckled softly to himself, looking at the skullcap on the desk and deciding against putting it on as yet. However, he did need to attend to his leg, the bleeding had surprised him, and concerned Vimes.

With a sigh, he set about grabbing a black cloth to wrap the old wound in, tying it securely and then limping to the window just in time to see Vimes leave the Palace and pause.

After a moment of watching the Commander intently, Vetinari watched him touch his helmet, then grin and wave before darting off. And he smiled, privately, just to himself. An interesting man indeed...and worth having on _your_ side.

* * *

*Vetinari had suggested that since Vimes was generally late and sometimes had to leave for important matters, that Vimes got the seat closest to the door. Vimes had added that it meant he could stop any people from trying to get in, and allowed him a view of nearly everyone in the room, just as the Patrician's seat did for Vetinari. Vetinari had dismissed this as 'a mere coincidence.' Vimes had said that if this was coincidence he was a swamp dragon's mummy.

**Sorry this took so long guys, and I know there are no arguments yet, I swear that the fifth chapter has them all...I haven't done a story like this at all for awhile, so I have to feel out some important parts first, before I get them all arguing. I've _never_ written things for Mrs. Palm, Lord Downey, or Lipwig, so I need to do some experimentation. next chapter should be up by...I'd like to say about two weeks from now, but it might be sooner, might be later.**


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